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I find it interesting how siblings who by and large grew up in the same house can have radically differing opinions of their relatives (and with that, which relative they clearly take after; my half sister is very much like the women on her father's side of the family in spite of having spent very little time with them growing up, while I'm so much like my maternal grandfather that my father believed my mother when she told him that I'm not his kid. Funny enough, my stepmother disagrees and loves to point out the dumb little habits and traits that we share.).
My mom (a former Marine, FWIW; my parents met in the Corps) was something of a cartoon villain of a parent, most likely suffers from Borderline Personality Disorder and the shrink I saw was adamant that she suffers from ASPD as well. My favorite story to tell about her is when she burned our house down for the insurance money two weeks before Christmas and then doctor-shopped shrinks and had me diagnosed with OCD and put on Zoloft at the ripe old age of nine because I was sad about having lost everything (There are details that make this story funny.). There are stories I've learned not to tell. Millennials love to complain about their families/childhoods but it's a party foul to throw real trauma out there. Failure as a sibling and murdered pets are a mood-killer.
The confusing part about it is that her parents were flawed but relatively decent people whose kids (my mother and aunt in particular) turned out to be Hillbilly Elegy-tier fuckups (My aunt was very much like JD Vance's mom.), and having mentioned the book one of the problems I have with it is that it comes from the perspective of the youngest sibling in which he claims a position of unconditional victimhood. I'm the eldest son, so it's not that easy, and one of the hardest things about adulthood is realizing that I have no more power today to save my sisters from their godawful decisions than I did as a boy in the face of our mother's wrath.
At the same time, while I still consider my maternal grandparents to have been good people (My theory is that the crazy skipped a generation. Apparently my great grandmother was infamous for being an ill-tempered banshee.), I differ with my sisters in that I consider my mother's complaints about her parents to have been more or less accurate. Her father wasn't around much because they were poor and he was always at work (Cat's in the Cradle was a hit in the 70s because it resonated with a bunch of guilty Silent Gen consciences. Gen X was prone to helicopter parenting in compensation for having felt neglected as kids.) and her mother was depressed and withdrawn (Two of her six children didn't survive to adulthood and died within 18 months of each other. No shit she was depressed.). I grew up watching the toxic push-pull of dependence and resentment between Mom and Mamaw. Mamaw meant well in her way, but was utterly smothering, controlling, treated my mother as an incompetent child, and had the gall to say that she raised me and is the reason I turned out alright, not mom. Mamaw was an astute enough critic, but utterly lacking in self-reflection such that she and her daughter were stuck in a perpetual fight where they were both right about each other but never willing to look in the mirror.
My little sister was chosen to speak in the commencement when she graduated from undergrad and gave a deeply moving speech about our grandfather, her hero (and mine). He really was a good man, kind and generous to a fault, and we were his little sidekicks as children. When the house burned down he took his shoes off and handed them to me, because he would be damned before he saw his grandkid go barefooted. We're so alike that I might as well be his walking clone. Thus, I say the following not out of iconoclasm, but self-reflection. He was a servant, but spineless. He was conflict-averse to a fault and didn't like exercising authority as the patriarch or dealing with drama and so rarely did, leaving his children feeling neglected and unprotected from their mother's maladies. Alzheimer's is an awful, but at times illuminating disease. I was fortunate in that I was able to catch him on a good day, tell him that he was the best grandfather I could've asked for (at which he perked up and asked, "Really?"), and promise to take care of Mom and the sisters for him. The sad truth is that he spent his life feeling like he'd never done good enough. When Mamaw died he woke up every morning thinking that she'd left him. I pray that being able to be the grandfather that he was gave him some peace for having been unable to be the father he wanted to be.
My mom? She'll never be much of a "mom", but she really did try to be better and to her credit is not a bad mom in the same way that her mom was bad to her. My little sister lives on the other side of the country and is still terrified of her in her mid-20s to the point that seeing someone who looks too much like her makes her freak out (Dear little sis, you have a Master's in psychology. Please see a fucking therapist for yourself because you don't have to live like that. Mom was the sort of awful that forced little sister's decorated Force Recon Marine combat veteran father into abject servility, but she isn't Agent Smith and is frankly far past her prime at this point. Sadly, for all his military chops her father is kind of a deadbeat and whatever differences I have with my father, I genuinely pity her for having a father best described as "useless".), but Mom is still a person. Inhumane at times, yes, but still human. I don't have the right to speak for my sisters, but speaking for myself if I have to be the only kid who talks to her, so be it. I'm not going to drown myself on her behalf (Mercifully, she's embraced "disabled veteran" as her latest identity, so she's mostly the VA's problem now.), but I do what I can. I won't cosign a loan for her because I know better than that, but I'll front her a down payment if I've got it. I'm the favorite kid, so she's usually good for paying it back. Having been the favorite and something of the sibling relations equivalent of a war criminal is what I have to deal with. Everyone has their cross to bear, I guess, and that one's mine. I deal with her so my sisters don't have to.
Yeah it took me a while to figure out that's the right way to do it - you know you can handle it, because you handled it as a kid. Maybe not perfectly, or even well, but better than all the people who couldn't. Borderline personality disorder's manipulative aspects make me see red, but it seems to me like they can't really stop themselves, it's a soul crushing irony that their abandonment issues drive almost everyone away. You're a good son for staying by her side though anyway, it might be your cross to bear but I know it can't be easy.
I guess the difference between my sisters and I is that they still demand some variety of justice, some "thing" that's going to make up for their suffering and make life happy ever after, or at least punish our mother, as if being pensioned off the by the VA in her mid 50s and facing the rest of her life alone isn't sad enough. For the middle sister it's always the next man, so she winds up in horrible relationship after horrible relationship (Refusing to address her severe obesity doesn't help here; it's an ugly thing to say, but she could get a higher caliber of man than the trash that she dates if she weren't pushing 400lbs. Ozempic exists! She makes good money so there's no reason that she couldn't afford it or at least one of the bootleg versions.). For the little sister it's the next degree, with a PhD being the holy grail, so she has two master's degrees, 250K in student loan debt, and a job that barely affords her living in an east-coast city with roommates.
Dealing with the manipulation is hard because I struggle to set boundaries or say "No.", but that, reflexive risk-aversion, and trying to buy feeling worthy/like a not bad person through overcommitment are things that have gotten me in more trouble in non-familial relationships than anything else. I spent my 20s being the "functional" one in my friend group and a few friendships in particular (One at least had the excuse of being a woman that I was love with.) wound up costing me around $30K between unpaid rent, a damaged car that I had to sell at a loss, and then god knows how much in unpaid mechanical labor. I'm good at avoiding the violent psycho variety of crazy but realizing that I'm not obligated to drown myself in service of someone who elicits my pity or that I like was a harder and more expensive lesson to learn. There's no amount of doing for others that's going to award you a "you're a good person and I love you" card. You'll just wind up broke and tired, and unless you address that compulsion you won't believe people when they tell you all those nice things anyway.
The way I put it now is that I have the right and obligation to defend myself and saying "No" is sometimes a necessary exercise in that.
Why don't you just directly recommend going to therapy for your sisters if you feel like it will help them out? They might not choose to act upon it, but they might still consider it.
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How did you convince yourself you aren't being selfish though? Like you are standing there just having listened to someone explain that they feel like going postal and can you do them a huge favour and over-commit to some project that is frankly none of your business, and what am I going to do with that time? Nothing of value most likely. If I'm at work it's no drama, because work is work, but if they ask in my free time I don't know how to say "sorry, no, I just finished the second season of this puppet show I've been watching and I have to watch a movie now before I start season 3." Doesn't the "I have a right to defend myself" argument feel a bit hollow in the those circumstances?
Sometimes you are being selfish, and you have to realize that it's okay to have (or not have) wants and desires of your own. In pettier situations it does ring a bit hollow, but in my experience if you can't learn to say "No" to something that isn't really a big deal (and to be clear, you don't have to say "No" every time; doing favors can make for rewarding experiences), you'll get get stomped on when the big things do come up. You don't have to be specific, just "sorry man, I'm tired, have other stuff going on, or whatever it is". People aren't going to hate you for that just like I don't hate my friends/relatives for not answering the phone when I call them in the middle of a long drive because I'm bored and trying to kill time. Ask yourself, "Would I be really bent out of shape if someone said "No" to me concerning this?"
I had to kick out two roommates in the last year. One was a big contributor to that 30 grand I mentioned and the other one was an awful, sad story, the prompt of "I have the right to defend myself" as an argument (I'll admit that phrasing comes across as overly dramatic, but you'll see why.). Some spineless regular at the bar I worked at met her on a dating site, hooked up with her, and couldn't handle the crazy (I'm not one who goes around diagnosing every woman I don't like as suffering from BPD, but she's one of two or three I've met in my adult life who was a dead ringer for that malady.). She was homeless/living in extended stays, I had a spare room and could use some extra cash (she was employed), and she seemed nice enough, so I said "Why not?" and took her in. Note to self, Friday night at the bar is not the place to go shopping for roommates.
It was toxic. She's not a bad person and I wish her something better, but she was troubled in a way that I'm not qualified to fix. She was 36 and drank like I did at 22, blacked out every night and trauma dumping on anyone in earshot. Honestly, observing her behavior made me feel deeply embarrassed for myself and how I was at that time and understanding of why the 8th Step exists. During blackouts it wasn't just the mundane stuff about being sexually abused by her father and not believed by her family or being fucked over by every friend in her life, but hearing the most disturbing admission of animal cruelty/neglect that I've heard, being called while working at the bar and told that she'd been on the phone with the suicide hotline, her goading her boyfriend into dumping her because she liked me more (her words), having to reject multiple sexual advances, and her blowing up on me for neglecting her in favor of speaking with an old friend that I hadn't seen in years. All this happened within two weeks. It was a disaster waiting to happen and she had to go. I felt like a massive asshole as I endured tantrums, "Why do you hate me?/What did I do to you/I'm sorry!!!?", and so on with stone silence (precisely how I dealt with/deal with my mother's tantrums), knowing full well what I was exiling her to (where she was before). I did it though, because my only choice was to do the hard thing or get dragged down further into her Hell than I already was. I still think about her sometimes.
That's excellent advice, thanks man. I was going to ask further questions, but I stumbled on the answer myself - I need therapy lol.
Hey, there's nothing wrong with that. In my experience it takes a reasonable amount of education to be able to pick the right therapist, but you strike me as having a good grasp of the subject.
In my experience, therapy generally isn't a miracle worker (It actually kind of was in terms of acute anxiety symptoms I was experiencing.), but it can equip you with the tools to tolerate things going badly (It really does help to be able to say "This sucks, but I know that my emotional regulation is unusually poor at present. I am not insane and will get through this.) and, more broadly, to be your own therapist. I'd give the therapist that I saw for ~3 months an 8/10. The stuff he understood, he really understood, more than I was prepared to accept at the time (I felt like he was exaggerating the severity of my situation for the sake of being validating. In hindsight, I don't think he was.). The stuff I felt like he didn't, things could get pretty cringe.
If anything, I think the point of therapy is to speed run acquiring these tools and mantras instead of muddling through life never learning them or learning them the hard way and wasting irreplaceable time in the process. I am far from perfect or "fixed" (and at some point in the future may have to take advantage of the fact that my town's selection of therapists is vastly better than it was the last go around), and have generally erred toward learning things the hard way, but I am vastly better off than I was 10 years ago.
Best of luck!
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